Everyone politely applauded, but I could feel some people's eyes judging me. I forced a polite smile, but my stomach twisted with nerves.
"Her company is making waves in the US," John continued, "and I believe it has the potential to expand internationally. Perhaps we'll see some of your products on our country's shelves soon."
"Thank you for your kind words, John," I said smoothly, keeping my voice light. "Vital Harvest is still growing, but I believe we have something truly special to offer."
"I agree." He nodded and gave me an approving smile. 
Then he talked about the trade expo, the mission and vision of the expo, and his partnership with some of the food producers present that evening. 
"Speaking of partnerships," he went on, raising his glass. "Let me also express my gratitude to Zeus Petrakis and his family's shipping company. For three decades, my distribution company has relied on his family. I trust them for flawless goods transportation—and they've never let me down."
Zeus inclined his head in acknowledgment, smirking. The guests murmured in agreement, raising their glasses in his direction. 
Wait...
Had I heard John right? He had a partnership with Petrakis Shipping Company?
Oh my God. 
Realization dawned on me. If I secured a distribution deal with John, that would mean Zeus' company would ship my products.
Damn it.
The room suddenly felt smaller. I could already hear my father's voice in my head. 
We don't do business with the Petrakis family, Zoe. End of discussion.
Holding my wine glass, I considered my next move. If I moved forward with securing a deal with John, conflict would arise between pursuing my career and fulfilling my family's wishes.
Across the table, Zeus watched me with one eyebrow raised. His fingers tapped lazily against his glass. I hated how confident he looked—as if he could read my mind. 
As if he could sense my struggle with the idea of working with him.
He totally knew, and he was enjoying my discomfort. 
But I wouldn't let Zeus ruin my business deal with John. 
I'd make sure of that.
***
After dinner, everyone headed to the grand living room. It was a huge space with a high ceiling and a massive chandelier. A grand piano sat in one corner, where a pianist was playing beautiful, soft music, giving an elegant ambiance.
The servers poured more wine, and the air buzzed with conversation as guests mingled, discussing business, shaking hands, and exchanging pleasantries.
Oliver stayed by my side, introducing me to the other guests—two older couples, two brothers who looked like they were in a whisky ad, a former actress, and Amy Murphy, a chef and food blogger, who, within five minutes, I knew would be my new best friend. 
Amy and I clicked instantly. She started a cookie business with her grandmother's recipes and had a really bubbly, warm personality. Just like me, she was from New York but living in England.
After some of the guests retired, Oliver and I found a spot in the corner and swapped stories about our business trips and our mutual love for food. He was easy to talk to and attentive—two things I couldn't say about the other man eyeing me from across the room.
Zeus raised his glass at me as if to acknowledge that he had caught me looking. I quickly turned back toward Oliver.
Suddenly, we were interrupted by a soft, feminine voice.
"Hello, you two. It seems like you're both enjoying each other's company."
We turned and came face to face with her.
Ivy Lecter.
She was gorgeous. Her smile was as sweet as honey, but her words? Pure venom.
"Oh, Zoe, is it?" She looked at me, sizing me up from head to toe. "So, you are into healthy products. How lovely."
There was something in the way she said lovely—as if she actually meant insignificant.
"Exactly," I said, sipping my wine. 
"How admirable," she said, placing a manicured hand on her chest in mock sincerity. "You know, I just got back from a fashion show in Asia—eighteen hours on a plane nonstop. But I still arrived at dinner on time."
Oh. Her attack caught me off guard.
Oliver shifted uncomfortably beside me, but I simply smiled.
"Well," I said, eyes twinkling, "I suppose punctuality comes easier when you have nothing else to do."
Ivy's smile froze for a second, her lashes fluttering as if she was unsure whether to be offended or not.
Then she smiled, her red lips stretching too wide. 
"Love your outfit," she said, but it sounded fake sweet. "Though I must say, red is...quite bold for a formal dinner, don't you think?"
I pretended to think, tilting my head. "Oh, but bold is exactly what I was going for. After all, when you have substance, you don't need to blend into the background."
Her lips parted, surprised, and I saw her eyes flash with annoyance.
She recovered quickly, though, letting out a soft, almost patronizing laugh. "You could use some help to polish your style. I have a dear friend—a personal stylist—who could assist you."
I took a little sip of wine and set the glass down. 
"How thoughtful of you, Ivy," I said, smiling sweetly. "But I'd rather have a stylist who understands me. Not someone else's insecurities."
Oliver choked on his wine.
Ivy's cheeks flushed.
I turned to Oliver and said, "Shall we go mingle?"
He grinned, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Absolutely."
As we walked away, I could feel Ivy's angry stare at the back of my head.
"Wow, that was savage." Oliver grinned. 
"Oh, was I?" My eyebrows rose. "She might be used to tearing other women down, but I'm not the type who will sit there and take it."
"Now I'm convinced." He leaned closer and whispered, "You're the one I've been looking for so long."
I waved a hand and grinned. "Stop. You're such a tease. But I should head to bed now. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
Oliver smirked. "Already? It's barely past Cinderella hours. At least wait till midnight."
I rolled my eyes. "Sadly, I don't have a fairy godmother who waves a magic wand and recharges my energy."
"Fine, I'll let you go—for now," he teased, eyes sparkling. He leaned closer and whispered, "See you tomorrow."
As Oliver retreated toward the exit, I made my way toward John and Margaret to say my goodnight.
With Ivy vying for the distribution deal, I needed to make one more good impression before the night was done.